


... all our perfect imperfections

by ISeeTheLight



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Adoption, Domestic, Family, Fluff, Homophobia, Larents, Larriage, M/M, Ordinary AU, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, SMUT!, They're both in their late Thirties in here, christmas stress, married, peepholes, so much fluff!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 13:07:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5418206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ISeeTheLight/pseuds/ISeeTheLight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their problems are ordinary, the bound they share isn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	... all our perfect imperfections

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy!

"Esther!", Harry shouted from the kitchen, "come pick up your lunch , and do it stante pede! It's time to leave for school!" He started to throb his large palm on the counter in an unsteady rhythm, dark eyebrows furrowed, and checked the vintage watch on his wrist. His jaw was clenching tense.

Esther Hope stampingly arrived, slamming the door with a force that was remarkable for her seven years, and grabbed the green tin container with a pout on her frail dark features. "You know", she murmured, suddenly a bit hesitant, "you don't have to yell at me. I can hear you perfectly well."

"Then why -", Harry set off in a scholastic voice; but soon his stern gaze softened. "I guess you're right, munchkin", he drawled quietly, driving the tips of his fingers over his messily done bun. "I am so sorry we're a bit impatient lately, Daddy and me. I don't mean it like that, you know? And it is never your fault." He tenderly pinched her tiny nose.

"And deranged, Pa", she added cheekily, showing him the empty inside of the box. "You forgot to even put the food in it." Her giggle sounded like the tinkle of a silver bell.

Laughing, he grasped her sides and heaved her up in the air, burying his face in her frizzy, but neatly combed hair: "I guess Christmas pause will benefit all of us ... and, Jeez, it's a quarter past eight already!"

After Louis had finally discovered Gabriel's glasses - who needed to know how they had ended up stuck behind the radiator in his room - the kids were finally ready to leave. Louis and Harry stood in the door side by side and watched them hop down the dim staircase, a tiny brown girl and a bit less tiny red-haired boy, quarreling about some movie they had seen. Their first moment of calm this morning.

Harry turned to watch his husband, who was wearing a frown on his tired features."When's your first period today, love?", he gently asked, tidying the other's fringe with well-trained fingers.

Louis flinched. "Ten o'clock", he muttered, sounding crestfallen. And then, suddenly bursting open: "I don't know what's up lately. Everything seems to go wrong; there are stacks of uncorrected papers on my desk; the kids drive me mad even though you guys mean more to me than anything in the world; I haven't bought a single Christmas gift yet; and even my teaching seems kind of ... off." His cobalt eyes flickered Harry a worried gaze.

Harry sighed, pulling him into a firm embrace. "Same here, love. I'm glad my first client only awaits me around noon today. Should be going soon, though, lot of paperwork to do at the office." He scratched his neck using his free hand. "As I told Es earlier; Christmas break will do us a favour."

A mischievous grin made its way onto Louis lips and crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Honestly, hun, 'same here'? You talk like Gabe", he chuckled, but got serious again very fast. Staring at his feet, he slowly added: "But ... what if it's not only the annual fall stress straining us? What if it's more permanent? Neither of us is getting younger, love, you're 36, I'm nearing 39, Gabe's on the verge of becoming a teenager". He was becoming more quiet. "And this morning, I even had to pluck out a first white hair."

Harry's smile faltered for a moment, but returned with a low chuckle as he grasped the meaning of his husband's words. "So that's what this is all about", he grinned, dimples popping: "well, I can assure you you are still the sexiest nearly-almost-forty-year-old I know."

Louis punched him in the stomach affectionately. His grumble sounded insincere as he said: "Didn't have to remind me of that, baby."

He stood on sock-wearing tiptoes and kissed Harry with a passion they hadn't felt in the stressful last time; growing greedier and more impulsive by second.

They finally pulled the door closed, Harry reaching under the collar of Louis' loose tee to trail the words he had had inked on his skin so many years before. "You'll never need to change for me", he barely breathed, his voice having lost all of its lightness out of all sudden. It was an old line; but it still sent shudders down Louis' spine. Overwhelmed by the beautiful feeling emerging in his chest at the sight of that man - his man - he mouthed: "I love you, Haz".

This was not sex, Louis thought as he lay sprawled out on their shared bed only moments later, the window blinds leaving space for a single beam of dusty sunlight illuminating the slightly chaotic room. They had never, not even at the very beginning, used that profane term; both instantly feeling it would not suffice to describe whan them making love meant. Snobby, but true, as it had turned out.

Harry was leaning over him, kneeling on the soft mattress between his legs. His pale torso was still toned under the dark artwork, though not quite as taut and muscular as when they first met; and the earthy scent of his shoulder-length chocolate hair so familiar that he could have identified it under a million.

Concentrating on the warmness inside, and the quietness of the room interrupted by a loud honk coming from down the street, and his hurtfully twitching pelvis, he let his eyes fall shut.

He started nibbling hard at his sharp stubbled jawline, leaving small beads of saliva on the tan skin as he moved on, downwards. Their wetness burned hot holes. Sensually and at a painfully slow pace, he let his tongue wander down his lover's flat stomach, hands roughly clenching his narrow hips in ecstasy, and started to circle his crotch with soft little kisses, sucking a tiny spot each time.

They knew each other's weak spots so well, the tiny part of his mind not building up to orgasm contemplated - and "Aaah!" he groaned as Harry hit the spot on his fleshy, smooth inner thigh that was especially erogenous. It shook his entire body.

Harry gave a low chuckle, still traces of his low and raspy morning voice audible in his timbre. "Good like that, love?", he panted.

Louis lacked the strength to even nod as his husband started to pump him, teasingly touching his glans once in awhile and then starting to slowly lick it, puppy-like pink tongue flicking out between his red lips. When he blinked his eyes open for a second, he could see that Harry's irises were dark with desire.

He could taste his own come when they lazily made out afterwards, sucking Harry's plump inferior lip. "You know", he quietly murmured against his face, struggling for breath: "I really needed that today."

The other smirked fondly as he replied: "I bet Gabe would blush a thousand miles an hour if he knew what his parents just did."

Louis hesitated, a thought striking his mind. "Do you think he is teased in school for having ... same-sex parents?", he gropingly asked. They sat up, in perfect sync almost.

Harry grabbed their carefully framed wedding picture from the nighstand while Louis settled his glasses on the bridge of his narrow nose. He took the photograph off his husband's slim hands to gently blow the dust away from its smooth cold surface. A younger, tux-wearing and happily smiling version of them looked him directly in the face. Harry's eyes had lost none of their sparkle in the years that had passed since.

"I don't know", Harry finally answered, his strained voice indicating incertainty. "I mean, sure, he is just entering the awkward teenager phase of his life, but there's always presumptious dickheads out there, am I right?", he growled.

Louis took his hand, caressing his large thumb with his own dainty one. "Just ... recently, when we went to Harrods for his birthday, we shared peck on the lips; and I kind of felt like Gabe wanted to physically tear us apart." Like always when he got nervous, the Yorkshire vowels shone even brighter through the high-pitched husk of his voice. His face showed genuine concern.

Harry sighed and shrugged his broad shoulders. "I don't know. But remember how it was when I first told my parents? Even they got over it after a while, and so will Gabe's friends, assuming they are worthy of that term. Fuck, it's 2029!", he gravelly answered.

+

Oh yeah, Louis could very well remember when Harry first came out to his parents. While his own mom had taken the news with a shrug and a firm hug; his husband's family had never been as accepting. Being the only son, the expectations had always been high on him; concerning his success in school and later in career as well as his private life. And at 22, Harry was on top of a law class he hadn't opted for and overall the most impeccable child his bourgeois mother and father could have asked for.

Then came that winter night along. Louis saw it before him as if it had happened only weeks earlier:

 

He was sitting in his sister's kitchen and sipping a cup of tea, chatting animatedly, when his phone rang. It was Harry, his boyfriend at the time; and the usually so expressive deep voice sounded strangled and flat.

"You have to pick me up Lou", he explained. "I told my parents. I don't want to stay at their house any longer." A small sob escaped his throat; and a completely dazzled Louis could make out words in the background, yelled by a middle aged man he would later get to know at Harry's dad: "Not only a pansy, but also a fucking girl! Fucking stop whining around!" They indeed sounded furious.

He, still not making sense out of any of it, drove his sister's rusty old van to Holmes Chapel as fast as he could, and - in retrospect - was surprised he hadn't run somebody over in the rush he was in. Harry awaited him at the place name sign, shaking with cold in his thin coat, he had to have walked the way even though it was goddamn freezing. Neither of them broke the silence the whole drive back to London.

But Louis caressed his boyfriend's thigh the entire time, steering the car with one hand, bleary eyes fixing the dark and slippery road.

Now, he was on if not friendly at least respectful Mr and Mrs Styles, even though he still sometimes felt like they accused him of altering Harry's sexuality.

They had been to the wedding, even if Mrs Styles had been in a huff, but never volunteered to babysit Gabe or Esther; their beautiful, beautiful children.

+

Louis cleared his throat. "Well, we'll have to talk to him about the issue, darling. There's still a lot of negativity around. But now, I have to dress -". Harry interrupted him: "And the kitchen is a total mess, Es hasn't quite figured out how to scramble an egg yet."

"She's gonna be better as a cook than me in, like, a year anyway. You two will spoil me and Gabe rotten once she can conjure up a quick parfait or something just like you."

In their clothes again, they decided to clean up together, Louis happily listening to the peaceful hum that Harry accompanied the soft Jazz sounds from their stereo system . He almost felt disappointed when they were finished.

Throwing their bright and, thanks to Harry, astonishingly hipster appartement a last glance, he turned the key in the doorlock a few minutes later. He swallowed.

Screw everyone who didn't acknowledge their little, imperfectly perfect idylle.

**Author's Note:**

> Harry's parents in this are not Harry's parents in real life


End file.
